Words and Rhyme

Abu Malek, chemical attack survivor, in the Ghouta town of AinTarma, Syria. Photo by Reuters.

Words
 
In full throat we once cried
plaintive notes that lift the tide
and mothers coo and fathers weep
and all we do is steal their sleep
 
And then we astound and form a word
a more precious sound never heard 
voices lovely, loud, aware  
We were lucky – someone was there
 
But somewhere nearby it is 3 a.m.
an infant cries but to no end
and somewhere else as morning breaks
a barely-sheltered man awakes
 
and makes his stand with ancient plea
“Here I am! Look at me!” 

 

Rhyme

Every day I wake to rhyme
The way I’m built I guess
I know this trait will fade to time
When I am more of less
 
But right now a world of words
Swirls where I am found
I am drawn to how they’re heard
So I sort them out by sound
 
I get up coffee black
Dawn is breaking fast
Without rhyme I go back
To bed and to the past
 
Every day I wake to rhyme
It’s clear why this is so
How else to face the climb
Of going where I go
 
I often think of Roethke
When I take my waking slow
But I’m getting way too meta
Too often off I show
 
Words and rhyme guide me
They help me feel the ground
Beside me and inside me
I am lost where I am found